Your Turn Emrys
by thedoctorchelsea
Summary: "Camelot and the future of Albion rests in your hands now, Merlin. Arthur needs you, and, more than ever, he needs to believe in himself. It is your destiny; to find all of your friends and make them believe that their childhood fantasies and bedtime stories are real. Make them remember, Emrys. For if you do not, a darkness will encompass the land like we have never known before."
1. Chapter 1

Although elderly, there was still a good chance He would beat you in a fight. He was impossibly elegant in his style. It was like He knew what you were going to do next. As though He could sense your next move: like Spider man, only better. He always noticed the small things: the impossibly small things. He felt the planet spinning at thousands of miles an hour, barely clinging to its arbitrary orbital. He heard the breath of the young man sitting on the bench at the bus stop across the wide street, and tuned out all other noise, until He heard only the incredibly quiet bus about a half of a mile away. He smelled the man's cologne, and could practically taste the fear, as he looked down and saw a crimson drop fall from his nose to the snow at his feet. He saw the blood bounce off of snow, and splatter all over the unique flakes, creating equally unique shapes of red liquid against the white background. All of His attention had turned to the young man; his essence, his actions, his personality, his energy, his story. The bus pulled up to the stop as he stood, and began to fumble in his pocket for a tissue. The thick, dark-skinned female bus driver began to yell at the unfortunate soul, and he continued to fish for a napkin, as well as his bus pass. The driver continued to scream, and the man looked up at her, looking her in the eyes. He tried to convey his feelings of embarrassment, as well as his apology for forcing her, and all the passengers, to wait for him. He had been glancing back and forth since she opened the doors of the bus, displaying the fact that he was having some difficulty locating the necessary items to get home. He then looked down, into his large coat pocket, attempting to spot his bus pass in his pocket, for a prolonged period of time. When he finally pulled his hand from his pocket, pass and napkin in hand, the bus driver had closed the doors and was about twenty feet away. The man sunk back into the seat at the bus stop, and wiped the blood from his upper lip and nose with the napkin. He scratched at the scruff on his face and wondered when the next bus would be coming around, and when he would be home. By the time he had given up on trying to calculate it, the Man from across the street, was standing in the middle of it. The street was barren, so he did not particularly fear what would happen to the Man, but he did wonder what He was doing, He just stood there, arms spread wide, elbows slightly bent. And He was chanting something. Some sort of gibberish and he had begun to wonder if He was insane. The Man opened His eyes, and raised His arms even higher. He stopped chanting, lowered His arms, and stretched His right arm out, and pulled His left arm close to His body, both hands in fists. He stood this way for a few moments, and he knew this Man was insane. But just as he had had that thought, he heard something amazing: squealing tires. The young man was astonished, but also frightened. He wondered if he was seeing things. Maybe he had lost more blood from that nose bleed than he had originally thought. Within only a few seconds, the bus that he had missed, which was about two hundred feet away, when He had begun His chant, was in front of him. Astonished, and still wondering if he was crazy, the doors opened for him. The bus driver had had the same reaction as the young man. The elderly Man was next to the young man within only a few short seconds.

"Sorry. I forgot this was my bus, too." He said to the young man and to the bus driver. He swiped His bus card, and sat down on a seat right near the front of the bus. His scraggly voice was crude, but it also had wisdom in it that very few people could ever reach. "Well, aren't you going to drive the bus? I mean, that is what you get paid for, isn't it?" If the people on the bus hadn't been so astounded at what they just witnessed, they might have laughed. "And you!" He said to the young man, who pointed to himself in question. "Yes you. Didn't you want to get on this bus, too?" The man gulped, and nodded. "Well then, better get on." He stepped on the bus, swiped his card, and decided which seat to choose. As the bus pulled away, He spoke. "Here, sit next to me." The Man patted His hand on the seat next to Him. The young man obliged, still trying, in vain, to come to terms with the reality of what he had just seen. All the while, the Man was talking his ear off. The young man was not listening to Him in the slightest. After about a twenty minute bus ride, He pulled a wire on the window, and stood up. "Well, it was nice seeing you Arthur." The young man was about to ask Him how He knew his name, when the bus stopped, and the doors opened. "Don't worry. We've met before. And I'm quite certain we'll meet again. I'm Emrys, by the way. Or as you knew me, Merlin. It was my pleasure, your majesty." He finished with a large bow, and stepped off the bus.


	2. Chapter 2

"Wait! Wait! Who are you?!" Arthur jumped off the bus at the last second, running after the mysterious man. He searched frantically through the crowds of people surrounding him. The feeling that had crept up inside of him was unlike any other he had ever felt. He was suddenly immersed in a wave of unexpected lucidity.

_Merthur? Earlys? Emlin? Merlys? What was it?! M-m-merlin? Merlin!_

"Merlin! Merlin!" Arthur began screaming the name that had suddenly popped into his head. Without meaning to, he had gotten angry with this Merlin. It seemed as though it was natural to be angry with him. But the more he screamed his name, the more he realized that it was not anger, but concern, and what honestly felt like a deep bond between the two of them. An unspoken connection. But that was a ridiculous thought to Arthur. He had only met the man half an hour ago. He turned the corner into an alley, and saw Merlin standing there, looking at him. Arthur stopped dead in his tracks.

"What is going on? Who are you? Who am I to you? I'm confused. Give me some answers. I can't really explain it, maybe it's because you just did all those ridiculously fantastic things back on that bus, but I really think that you can help me." Merlin just stood there in silence, watching him, wondering. Arthur grew increasingly frustrated with each question he asked that received no answer from the man. At first, he thought he was going insane. But as he stood there, looking at him, talking to him, he began to realize that what was happening to, and around him, was all too real.

"Alright look. If you're not going to tell me what's going on, I'm just going to walk away and call the police, and they'll come get you and throw you in a mental institution." Merlin's continued silence caused an incredibly frustrated Arthur to turn around, not walking away, just turning. He pinched the skin between his eyebrows, and sighed heavily.

"Are you sure they'll be sending _me _to the mental institution?" Arthur turned back to face him, surprised at the old man's sudden speech.

"What?"

"You heard me." Arthur's sudden silence made Merlin speak yet again. "If you call the police and tell them that you just saw an old man pull a bus without any physical tethers whatsoever, are you sure they'll come looking for me?" As he verbalized Arthur's idea, he realized how preposterous it sounded, to most people. But for a reason he could not yet explain, Arthur didn't feel like the idea was foreign. He knew it was, but he also knew it wasn't. Merlin sensed the conflict going on inside Arthur's head, and had one final question to ask him.

"Tell me, Arthur. What did it feel like?" Arthur's contemplative gaze into the distance was broken by Merlin's question. He looked at Merlin, eyebrow raised and head cocked to the side. "When I pulled the bus backwards, when I talked to you on the bus, as I'm talking to you now; how do you feel?"

"It feels…" Arthur percolated what the proper word would be. "Right. For once in my life, it feels like I've got some sense of clarity in my mind. I can't explain it, hell, I can't explain whatever it was that you did with that bus. But, it feels right. I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. I feel like I've finally got a purpose."

Merlin crossed over to him, head leaning slightly to the right. He squinted his wrinkled eyes, as the wind blew back his long gray hair. With slow, methodical, deep steps, Merlin was within centimeters of Arthur's face, in what seemed, to Arthur, to be minutes, when, in reality, it was only a few seconds. Merlin lifted his right hand to Arthur's face. Arthur backed away from the corrugated hand, but felt a fondness drawing him back to his original position. Merlin waited, hand in mid-air, for him to accept that he wasn't going to hurt Arthur. As the two grew closer to each other, they both felt their feelings of brotherhood, and true friendship return to them. They missed on another. Merlin's hand had finally reached Arthur's cheek, and, when they touched, they knew that that was exactly where they were supposed to be: standing next to each other, ready to fight the world, and protect the ones that they loved at any and all costs. They smiled at each other, tears rolling down their faces.

"It really is you," Merlin said, pulling Arthur into a tight hug. "Oh god, I've missed you, you clot pole."

"Of course it's me, Merlin." Arthur said back to him, knowing that he was meant to be there with his one and only friend, whom he had just met.


	3. Chapter 3

The pair walked out of the alley they were standing in, turned right onto the street, and walked several blocks. They talked lots about lots of things. With the sudden realization of who Arthur was, he found it difficult to recall details about his life. He wasn't sure how to refer to it. Was it his old life? Was it his fake life? Was this his new life? Was this is real life? But it didn't matter to him, or to Merlin, what it was called, because it felt right. They both knew that their meeting wasn't by chance, but that it was planned by the forces that shaped, and continue to shape, the world around them.

"You know, you're not the first person I thought was you." Merlin told his friend.

"What do you mean?" Arthur inquired after the old man.

"I mean that I've been looking for your reincarnation for centuries, Arthur. I put myself in the courts of the most powerful kingdoms, and in the slums of the poorest nations. I've searched the world high and low for you. And I almost lost hope: until I saw you sitting at the bus stop across the street."

"So, what about all the other people you thought were me? Do they remember anything that you did to test them, or whatever you want to call it?"

"No. No one on that bus remembers, and none of the others remember." Merlin paused, before interrupting his own train of thought. "Well, that's not entirely true I suppose. See, I've found reincarnations of all the others. All the members of the round table are right where I need them to be. I've kept them close over the years, all I needed was you. And, now that I've found you, Arthur, it's time to reveal to them who you are, as well as who they are."

Merlin stopped on the sidewalk, and turned to the gate that was next to him. Arthur was so busy listening to Merlin, and thinking about all the events of the past hour or so, that he had completely neglected to think of where the duo was going.

"Home," Merlin said, sensing the king's contemplative and questioning mood. Arthur snapped his attention to Merlin and noticed that he was punching in some numbers on a keypad next to the gate. Arthur took a few seconds to glance up at the tall, residential building they were standing in front of. It looked to be about 50 stories tall. It was white, with large tinted windows. The edges of the building seemed to curve inward, leaving a small oval in the middle. As the gate flung open, Merlin and Arthur crossed the small courtyard, and were greeted by a young man at the door.

"Hello, Mr. Emrys," the doorman said.

"Hello there, John. How are you doing today?" Merlin replied with a happiness in his tone, and a glint of joy in his eyes.

"I'm alright Mr. Emrys, and yourself?"

"I'm doing just fine today, John." Merlin walked from the man to an elevator across the large foyer. Arthur took in the fancy, yet modernly simplistic design of the room. The tall dark walls complemented the white floors, and the square furniture went well with the rounded ceiling. The water features and fire place added to the ambiance of the whole room, causing it to simply ooze wealth. Arthur walked to the hunched over Merlin standing by the elevator.

He leaned and whispered to him, "How can you afford this place, Merlin? Rent must be ridiculous."

"Rent?" Merlin turned to his king, and, after a moment of realization, replied in hushed tones, "Oh! Rent! I don't pay rent." Arthur shot Merlin a very confused look, anticipating an explanation. "I own the building. Designed it, too." The elevator dinged, the doors opened, the pair stepped inside, the doors closed, and they began talking in regular volume again. Merlin pushed a button for floor 57. "I own an architectural firm, called Merlin's Mansions, which is a subsidiary of a much larger corporation, Avalon Enterprise. We're a major stock broker, and we often buy smaller companies, offering them economic stability. That's my sales pitch, at least. I actually started the company because I needed resources to find you, and, through it, I was able to find all of our old friends."

The elevator dinged again, and the doors opened to a large, open room with tall windows. Merlin took off his jacket and tossed it on a chair next to the elevator. There were some stairs which led to an elevated part of the room. The entire room was clad in white, from the ceiling to the floor to the walls to the furniture, and not a single circular object was to be found. Merlin walked up the steps, taking off his shoes in the process, and walked through a door way to the right of the elevated area.

"Make yourself at home," he shouted from another room to a slow moving Arthur. He was taking all of it in. All that had happened to him, and around him. Most people might break under the pressure of such quick change, but Arthur, being the king that he was, was quick to adjust. Within a few minutes, he had his shoes off, and was standing in the kitchen with Merlin.

"You know, it's funny because, the old me, or the new me, or whatever that guy was- the me that's not really me, would most likely have died from shock at such wealth. But, I don't know, maybe it's the kingliness in me, I feel at home among this kind of wealth and power. It feels right to be here."

"That's because it's where you belong, Arthur. You're meant to be here, among the wealth, changing the world around you, for the better." Merlin put his hand on his friend's shoulder. He rubbed at his face, and, after a few moments of silence, spoke out rather loudly. "Well, come on! We've got a dinner party to attend." He walked a few steps out of the kitchen, and turned to the hallway on his right. Arthur had followed him, and glanced in some of the rooms they passed. They were decorated very modernly, to no surprise, but there was a door at the end of the hallway which seemed different. It was wooden, with large metal hinges stretching from the frame to the middle of the door. There were inscriptions on the wood and details on the metalwork that reminded Arthur of his castle in Camelot. The memories of that life were slowly returning to him. It felt as though they were memories of another life, like a movie he had watched so many times over that he could quote it back and forth. It took him a moment to realize that they were his memories. Sometimes certain things would remind him of it; smells, words, faces, objects, or, in this case, a door.

"Hey, Merlin." He called out.

"Yeah?" Merlin had bent backwards slightly, just enough to poke his head out of the room he had entered, to look at his king.

"Where's that door go?"

"Which one?" Merlin walked out of the doorway and to his friend.

"That one." Arthur pointed to the door in question.

"Oh! That old thing?" Merlin laughed. "We'll get there eventually, I can assure you. For now, we need to get you cleaned up, in some new clothes, and off to a nice dinner party."


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur stepped out of the shower, and wrapped the towel around himself. He opened the bathroom door, and stepped into the guest room. A black suit, white shirt, black tie, some socks, shoes, and underwear were laying on the bed for him. He dressed himself, putting on everything, except the tie and the suit jacket. He walked out of the bedroom and into the living room area. Merlin was sitting on the couch, in a suit as well. He had his right foot sitting on his left knee, and held it with his left hand, while his right hand rested on the back of the couch. Arthur noticed that his hair was now a dark brown, and the wrinkles on his hands and neck had faded.

"How do I look?" Arthur asked. Merlin turned his head to look at his king, who realized that Merlin was now young again. Somehow, it was no surprise to Arthur that his advisor was young again. As best as he could remember, Merlin was incredibly powerful. Changing the way that he aged couldn't have taken too much of a toll on him. Despite the somewhat shockingly sudden change in his appearance, Arthur walked toward Merlin. Merlin stood up to meet his ruler halfway through the living room.

"Horrible," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. He burst out in full fledge laughter.

"Is it really that bad?"

"You know, even when you're not a king, you still can't dress yourself."

"Oh, shut up Merlin, and help me get dressed!"

"Yes, your majesty."

Merlin adjusted his king's shirt, and tied his tie. Arthur slipped on his jacket, and the two headed towards the elevator. Merlin pressed the button, but blurted out that he had forgotten something. He jogged up the stairs, and towards a small desk near the doorway which led to the rest of the house. Arthur watched his every move. Merlin opened a drawer in the desk, and pulled out a small trinket. He mumbled some words in a dialect, unknown to Arthur, and slipped the object into his pocket.

"What was that?" Arthur asked as Merlin slipped back into his position in front of the elevator. Merlin smiled.

"You'll see."

"I hate it when you say that."

The two stepped into the elevator. Once the doors closed, Arthur was startled at the third person in the elevator with them. He jumped, nearly falling on his butt.

Merlin laughed, almost suffocating himself in the process. As they both regained their composure, Arthur noticed that the third figure was imitating Merlin's every move. He looked a lot like the older Merlin, Emrys as he was being called. Arthur slipped his hand into Merlin's pocket and grabbed the circular trinket from the desk. He held it up, examining it closely. Every move that was made by Arthur, was reflected in the mirage standing next to him. Merlin stood, hands crossed in front of his groin, laughing at Arthur.

"It's a Gollum. I summoned it with that spell, and bound it to that thing." Merlin pointed to the object Arthur was holding. He held his hand out, and the object was returned to him. "Whoever holds that, controls the Gollum. I have it imitating me right now, but, later, I'll have it come back here on its own. Sometimes I need to be young, and sometimes I need to be old. Sometimes I need to be a father, and sometimes I need to be a son." Arthur nodded, indicating that he picked up on what Merlin was saying. There was a sense of discomfort coming from Arthur. He probably couldn't tell you why, but Merlin felt it as well. "Look, Arthur, I know that you didn't really approve of me using magic, but-"

"It's not that Merlin. It's just that I never got to see you really use it very much, so it's hard for me to fathom that my clumsy manservant is an immensely powerful sorcerer. Right before I died, I came to terms with the fact that you used magic to do all the things you did. I just, I never expected it to be on this big of a scale. I really underestimated you, Merlin. I never thanked you enough, or applauded you for all the things that you did, and I know you say that's not why you did it, but I feel like maybe this is my chance to change that."

Tears welled up in Merlin's eyes. Arthur's heartfelt speech was moving, and it was something that Merlin missed. The elevator doors opened, and they walked through the foyer. Merlin and Emrys nodded and smiled at John. They walked to a limo sitting in the courtyard.

"You know, in over a millenia of living, that's the thing I missed most." Merlin opened the car door for his king. He paused, smiling at Arthur. "Your cheesy speeches." Arthur playfully punched Merlin on the arm, as they got into the limo, and went to the dinner party that wouldn't change their lives.

**…**

It took a few tries, but Arthur finally got used to going to the social gatherings which Merlin often held. Almost every Friday night, there was another party of some sort going on. Arthur made himself familiar with the social scene of the wealthy. His claim was that he just got out of college at Harvard Law School, and was advising Mr. Emrys on a number of legal matters. Merlin, using a considerable amount of magic, gave Merlin all the knowledge he needed to pretend to be a lawyer. It was still just a front, however, to get Arthur used to the social setting which would allow him to convince the members of the round table of their true identities.

Within a month, all the most important members of the round table had met, and become good friends with, Arthur the lawyer. But they had yet to become friends with Arthur the king. Senator Leon, whose campaign was being funded by Merlin's company, had invited Arthur to come to his home sometime. Dr. Percy, or rather Percival, was a NASA scientist who was also being funded by Merlin, and was like a brother to Arthur. Lance was the face of Uther's Underwear, an undergarment line, also owned by Merlin. He too had become close to Arthur. Gwaine and Elyan were Merlin's biggest and most successful bank brokers, and often found themselves in Arthur's posse, which had seemed to spring up almost overnight. None of them knew it, but the reason that they were all so close was because they had been through so many things together in their past lives, that their subconscious minds caused them to be drawn towards one another.

There was, however, one person that Arthur still had not seen. And it was the one person he wanted to see more than anyone: Guinevere.

It didn't take much concentration for him to picture her: the soft skin of her cheek under his fingertips, the gentle massage of her lips against his, the quietly infectious laugh that sometimes seemed to come out of nowhere, the way her presence seemed to soothe even the most rowdy of courts, the look she gave him that told him she was his for all time. He missed her, with every fiber of his being. He wanted to see her so much that every bone, ligament, and muscle ached. The nerves in his back tensed whenever someone mentioned her name.

And, although she couldn't pinpoint why, part of her missed him too.


	5. Chapter 5

She let her hand rest next to her chin, on his chest. She smiled in her lightly sleepy state. As it rose and fell, she let her breathing synchronize with his. She fluttered her eyes open, and stared and the fuzz in front of her, disappearing under the blankets. Her eyelids fell closed again, but the smile remained on her face. She imagined she heard him whisper good morning, so she returned the favor. She turned away from him, reopened her eyes, and stared at the sunlight shooting through the thin curtains. For a few brief moments, she thought of his breathing. She closed her eyes, rolled back over to him, and concentrated on the way he breathed. How simple and rhythmic it was, how much she loved it, how much she loved him.

Her alarm pierced her ear drums like daggers, and she bolted upright. It was then that she realized, in her groggy state, that she had fallen in love with the breathing pattern of a pillow. She grunted and threw the blankets away from her, and onto her pillow. She walked to her bathroom, and began the 'getting-ready' process. Within 40 minutes, she had showered, dressed, eaten, and was on her way to work.

Gwen was a member of the executive board at Avalon Enterprise, and oversaw the consolidation of new companies into the corporation. She was used to the same faces she saw every Friday morning at the board meeting, but when something changed, she noticed. Especially when she saw the face she had seen in her dream that morning: Arthur's.

During the meeting, she stared at his chest. Watching it rise and fall, focusing on the way he sounded. She envisioned what it might feel like to run her fingers over him. She was so fixated on him, that she missed her cue to present her reports from the trip she had just returned from.

"Gwen," the voice rang out. "Gwen," it said again. She shook her head, as if she was shaking the thoughts she had been thinking of him out of her mind.

"Yes?" she asked, a bit dazed and confused.

"Your report on the trip to Bangkok?" Merlin asked, smiling at her. The rest of the board seemed to be judging her, but she concentrated on Merlin's eyes, and found her focus in them. Standing up, she pulled out a flash drive from her pocket. She plugged it into the laptop at the front of the long table, and began her presentation on stocks and relations with the company's foreign partners. The meeting was adjourned when she was finished, and she scurried out of the room rather quickly. Arthur lingered and was talking to Merlin.

Merlin informed Arthur that she kind of had a thing with Lance, but it wasn't really serious.

"To be honest, she's way more into it than he is. He's just in it for the sex. I think she really wants something more meaningful, something that she's not getting from Lance." As they talked about Gwen's life, and all of the things she had poured out to Mr. Emrys, Arthur couldn't help but wonder if she felt anything for him.

The entire day, and for many days after, Gwen thought solely of Arthur's chest. Not necessarily for sexual reasons, but because there was a familiarity to it. In the meetings that followed, she found herself staring at him, and him staring back at her. They both wondered if they should say anything. Gwen wanted to know why the man from her dreams had suddenly showed up in her life, and Arthur wanted to show her.

It took some time, but, eventually, Arthur began to talk to her. For a while, at their daily meetings, they talked little about nothing in particular.

"Careful, it's hot." Arthur said as he put a cup of coffee in front of Gwen. He scooted into the chair next to her as she stared at him. "Two creams, two sugars, right?" He nodded his head in her direction, maintaining eye contact. Gwen's eyes were wider than the cup in front of her.

"Yes, but how did you-?"

"You tend pick up on things when you watch someone go through the same routine every day for a week." Arthur smiled, and Gwen reflected his action. She laughed, almost nervously. She couldn't imagine why such a kind, gentle, dreamy man would ever talk to someone like her. He was so sweet, and she wasn't. She knew she wasn't, and she was certain that he knew as well.

About a week prior to the coffee incident, Arthur was present at a meeting between Gwen, Merlin, and some of their foreign competitors. He was providing legal counsel for both parties. In the meeting, oblivious to anything else, Gwen was fiercely unfair in the deals they were trying to make. Merlin, of course, had the ultimate decision, but Gwen still fought as hard as she could to protect her own selfish interests. Arthur was quiet for the entire meeting, and Gwen silently feared that he was judging her. Arthur, in fact, was falling in love even harder than she was. He was falling in love with her ferocity, tenacity, and her capability to get what she wanted. She was falling in love with his ability to notice small things that no one else had ever taken care to consider, and with his kind heart.

Gwen thought about all these things while Arthur stared at her, smiling. They had been maintaining eye contact for so long, they had forgotten their conversation.

It wasn't until they finally went out for dinner, that Gwen realized why she couldn't stop thinking about him: He was the love of her life, and she the center of his.

**…**

She crossed the wide dance floor, letting her heels click loudly. The black shoes she wore were her favorites: they made her feel confident, but she could walk in them, too. The red dress she had dawned fit her just snuggly enough that it showed off her incredible figure, but not in a way that made her look cheap.

He crossed the distance from the bar, and his posse, to the dance floor. He noticed her gaze from far away, and it took every ounce of composure he could muster not to run towards her.

They met in the middle of the floor, and, as Merlin motioned to the DJ, a slow song began to play. Arthur took Gwen's outstretched hand, and bowed in front of her. Lance stared at them, wondering if he should do anything, but decided that he didn't care about his relationship with Gwen enough to start a fight.

Arthur stood back up, and pulled Gwen in close to him. He put his left hand on her back, and she tenderly situated her right hand on his left shoulder. She placed her left hand on his chest, and he rested his right hand gingerly on top of it. They swayed back and forth in that position, looking into each other's eyes with a longing that could tear apart kingdoms, and a love that had broken centuries old traditions. Two songs later, Gwen rested her head on Arthur's chest. They let go of the other's hand, and wrapped themselves around each other. The embrace that they held was one so warm, it could make the sun seem cold.

"Guinevere," he whispered.

"Arthur," she whispered back. Somehow, she knew that she was meant to be with Arthur. She felt the same sense of belonging that Arthur had felt with Merlin. It made sense to her. She realized that all the things that she had been feeling, all the things that she had been wanting for so long, were now realized in that one dance, and in the kiss that followed.


End file.
